


Guilt

by rhinestonerz



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Aromantic, Family Member Death, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Michelangelo (TMNT) Has ADHD, Platonic Relationships, Queerplatonic Relationships, Reader-Insert, Self-Indulgent, x Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27859001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhinestonerz/pseuds/rhinestonerz
Summary: You tremble, and Mikey is quick to wrap his arms around your body, a tight hug surrounding you. The shaking grows worse as the seconds tick by. You’re stiff in Michelangelo’s arms, but that doesn’t stop him from holding you close. You’re glad it doesn’t. His voice is soft, lips pressed against the side of your head as he speaks.“You have been so, so strong.”That single sentence is enough to break the walls you’d kept up for weeks now.
Relationships: Michelangelo (TMNT)/Reader
Kudos: 17





	Guilt

**Author's Note:**

> I figured a lot of us may know someone who’s passed due to C*VID. I myself have lost three family members this year because of it, and I just thought that this fic might help myself and others with coping. No romance for 2018 Mikey bc I hc him as aromantic, but qpp relationships r nice so yknow. Enjoy! <3

She’s dead. It was only a month that your aunt was in hospital, but she’s dead now. Fifty-four, not even that old. You’re hopping the roofs of the high up buildings and complexes of New York, biting back tears and trying to remain stoic. It was all those shitty doctors faults.

_”She would’ve died anyways. Would’ve been a waste of oxygen tanks to keep supplying her.”_

_”You should be grateful. She was taking up space, wasting your money. The bill was getting high, you know?”_

No proof, your lawyer had said. No damn proof that there was any sort of foul play. You glare down at your sneakers, trying to run yourself tired. If you roof hop enough, if you run fast enough, maybe you can forget it. Maybe it won’t hurt anymore.

Then there’s the sound of whistling coming from down below. You look towards the alleyway you’d been standing above, noticing the slight movement of the sewer head there. You know who it is instantly, though you don’t even have the strength to smile to yourself. You jump down quickly, stairs, fire escapes, balcony’s, til you’re on the ground beside the sewer.

”Pssstt—“ Comes the overly obnoxious voice that you’re used to. You carefully pull the sewer lid up, and Mikey slips out cautiously. There’s no one near the alley, thankfully, and Michelangelo jumps up and down on the balls of his feet, smiling brightly at you.

”Heyheyhey, Y/N, hey, so I’ve been lookin’ for ya, and-“ The boy stops midway, realizing that you’re not focusing. Your eyes are staring at him, but they’re glazed. Hazy. He frowns, waving a hand in your face.

”Heyyyy?? Angel cakes, what’s up? You okay?” His voice is quieter, gentler, and you clench your fists tightly. It’d not be wise to trust him with your burden. It would be a terrible idea to annoy Mikey of all people with your issues... He would leave you. He’d hate you. But you’ve been alone in your pain for so long. Looking at the turtle in front of you, at how concerned and how ready he is to _listen_ , you chew on the inside of your cheek and hug yourself tightly. Debating. Thinking.

Finally, after a long pause, you tell Mikey in no uncertain terms what’s wrong.

”I am so. Fucking. Tired,” You begin, voice shaking, ”My aunt is dead, my cousin’s dead, my family is being deemed too unfortunately unhealthy to survive this dumbass pandemic!” You're on the verge of shouting, but you keep quiet. The box turtle in front of you furrows his brow, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder. You whimper, but go on.

”Why is it my family? Why are we dying? Is it my fault?” You’d been keeping this in for weeks now, no one to talk to. Not wanting to burden any. Not wanting to make others tired of you. Michelangelo rubs gently at your shoulder, softly calling your name. You bite your lip. ”Michael, am I bad luck?” There it was. The big sense of guilt that was burdening you now for years. The unrelenting, painful thought that only got even louder these past weeks.

After a moment of silence, Mikey makes an incredulous, loud and surprised chirp. The kind, bright eyed turtle is shocked. His partner really feels this guilty about something they had no part of?

”Hey, baby, wait a minute-“ You shake your head, glaring down at the ground and shivering violently. You can’t listen. Can’t listen, the thoughts are so fucking _loud._

You tremble, and Mikey is quick to wrap his arms around your body, a tight hug surrounding you. The shaking grows worse as the seconds tick by. You’re stiff in Michelangelo’s arms, but that doesn’t stop him from holding you close. You’re glad it doesn’t. His voice is soft, lips pressed against the side of your head as he speaks.

“You have been so, so strong.”

That single sentence is enough to break the walls you’d kept up for weeks now. You fall into a quiet tearful breakdown, fling your arms around Michelangelo, and cling desperately to him. You can’t speak, and he doesn’t force you to. The soft hums of his calming gentle voice are slowly lulling you to sleep.

  
Finally, you can barely keep your eyes open. You slump into his arms, and the boy moves to kiss your forehead, picking you up royalty style. Your head leans against his chest, feeling the heartbeat guarded by his surprisingly warm shell, snuggling close against his neck. Your head was throbbing softly, but you ignored it in favor of falling asleep in the arms of your partner, who was carrying you down to the lair to get some rest.

Michelangelo sighs to himself, traveling the winding pipes of the sewer to get to the lair. He looks down at your tear stained cheeks, and shakes his head, brushing your hair away from your face. You mumble in your sleep, and Mikey smiles softly While pleased that you’ve tired yourself out and vented to him, he is a bit sad he hadn’t been able to tell you about his newest art project after to cheer you up. Well, he’ll just have to show you the portrait of you two on his bedroom wall later on.


End file.
